


fall apart at your fingertips

by scarsandstars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Biting, Blow Jobs, Enthusiastic Consent, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, blood mention, fangs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarsandstars/pseuds/scarsandstars
Summary: Before Keith knows it, he’s absentmindedly touching his bottom lip and thinking about Shiro’s teeth on it, how he bites and sucks on it and then smirks, and how he makes Keith weak in the knees with something so simple. It doesn’t even surprise him that just the memory of it is enough to spark something inside him. It’s Shiro. It’s always just Shiro.





	fall apart at your fingertips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maginot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maginot/gifts).



> just something. I like Keith's little fangs.

Shiro has become a very busy man. It figures, considering everything that’s happened; Keith thinks Shiro was _always_ a very busy man, he just hadn’t been this directly affected by it. When Shiro was the star boy at the garrison, when he became the leader of Voltron, when he was Shiro the Hero in extremely tight outfits during all those silly Voltron shows Keith always tried his hardest to see. So, Shiro walking around from meeting to meeting, supervising and advising and planning, and analyzing and calculating and whatever-else-ing, shouldn’t really surprise Keith as much as it does. But he gets to see Shiro by himself very little these days, especially when he’s also busy himself. 

 

Right now, Keith is lying on the bed in his room, which he thinks might count as _their_ room seeing as how Shiro sleeps there every night. Officially, Shiro has his own bigger room, but there’s dire situations out there, so no one really cares about assigned rooms or other such nonsense. He’s looking up at the ceiling, trying to push all those noisy, frantic, war-related thoughts away and to replace them with something nicer. Something like Shiro’s eyes. Something like Shiro’s little lopsided smile. Something like the first time he kissed Shiro and it felt like all the pieces in the puzzle had magically fallen into place inside him. It was electric. Before he knows it, he’s absentmindedly touching his bottom lip and thinking about Shiro’s teeth on it, how he bites and sucks on it and then _smirks_ , and how he makes Keith weak in the knees with something so simple. It doesn’t even surprise him that just the memory of it is enough to spark something inside him. It’s Shiro. It’s always just Shiro. 

 

Only a few seconds after, Keith hears the creak of the door being opened and he shoots straight up on the bed. He doesn’t bother calling out Shiro’s name since, he doesn’t have to; he takes those few steps around the bed and sees Shiro standing there, closing the door and looking tired—tall and beautiful and bright, but so tired. Having him there at last, after a day and a half without being alone with each other in a room, makes Keith miss him, somehow. It makes him want to show Shiro just how much he’s missed him, too. 

 

“Hey, Keith,” Shiro says when he sees him. 

 

Keith stands close to him and grabs the nape of his neck to pull him down into a kiss. He just does it, just kisses Shiro’s pretty, soft lips and tugs a little at his hair, and presses himself so close to him that Shiro actually stumbles for a second and leans back against the wall. However surprised Shiro is by the greeting doesn’t seem to bother him in the least: he responds to Keith’s kiss almost immediately, he kisses him back just as eagerly, he touches the curve of Keith’s waist with his flesh hand and brushes a strand of hair away from his face with the prosthesis. The way Shiro kisses him never fails to make Keith sigh—Shiro kisses him like he’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, he teases him with his tongue, he nibbles on his lip, he opens his mouth just enough to show how impatient he is to have him. He pulls Keith even closer by his waist and Keith lets out a little moan against his lips, his unreal, perfect lips, and Keith grabs Shiro’s hips because it only took this for that spark inside him to become a raging fire. 

 

Shiro manages to break the kiss for just one second to breathe Keith’s name, brushing some messy black hair away from his forehead.

 

“I missed you,” Keith almost growls, filled with need that he almost doesn’t know what to do with. So, he kisses Shiro again, he bites his lip a little too hard—in that way Shiro likes—and breaks it up to kiss him again, his hands still pressing against Shiro’s hips. “Fuck, I missed you.”

 

“I’m right here, baby,” Shiro says, his voice low and breathless and it makes Keith want him even more. 

 

His kiss is hungry and verging on desperate, and he slides his thigh between Shiro’s and smiles at Shiro’s quiet grunt. Keith doesn’t want to waste time anymore, it feels like there’s a clock ticking and while he knows, realistically, that the chances of someone carrying Shiro away into another damn meeting at this time are slim, something in him is refusing to acknowledge it. He palms at the front of Shiro’s pants and bites Shiro’s lip when he spreads his legs a little; he rubs his dick through the fabric a little harder, until the kiss Shiro is giving him turns into a harsh bite. Keith tugs at Shiro’s hair and undoes the pants, tugging them just enough for them to fall down to his knees when Shiro shifts his hips. 

 

“Keith,” Shiro gasps, grabbing a fistful of his hair and letting his head fall back against the wall.

 

“I missed you,” Keith whispers again, kissing and sucking on the sharp edge of Shiro’s jaw while his thumb is pressed against his Adam’s apple and his free hand is wrapped around his cock. Shiro swallows hard, and Keith can feel it under his thumb; his face is flushed and his eyes are half-closed, and Keith had almost forgotten how beautiful he looks like this, how the blush of his face spreads to his neck and makes his scar look a little more pink than usual. He leans in to kiss the angle of his jaw. “You’re mine,” Keith says, almost in disbelief. 

 

“I am, baby,” Shiro says, his hips bucking forward into Keith’s hand. “I’m all yours.”

 

It sends blood shooting through Keith’s veins, heading south. He unbuttons Shiro’s uniform jacket and touches his chest, squeezing muscle and thumbing at his nipple through his undershirt, sucking a bruise on the side of his neck without stopping to wonder if the uniform will hide it. He slides Shiro's undershirt up and mouths at his chest, kisses and bites and maybe sucks another random bruise here and there, all while Shiro gasps and tangles his fingers in Keith's hair, his cock hardening in Keith's fist. Keith drops to his knees and bites at Shiro's hip bone, hard enough that Shiro chokes out a cry. 

 

"Keith, fuck, are you--" Shiro asks breathless. 

 

Keith pulls back and looks up at him, his eyes wide, and he brings his finger to his teeth. It's only happened a handful of times, right in the middle of it: the first time he had sex with Shiro and he was fucking Keith into the mattress, and Keith bit his shoulder and drew blood accidentally, because his fangs had come out. Embarrassed as he was, Shiro seemed intrigued, and though his skin was broken, he made it that night's mission to figure out _exactly_ what he had done to cause Keith's fangs to just show up like that. Keith remembers they fucked until the next morning, and he remembers how pleased with himself Shiro looked every time Keith was so lost in the feeling that he couldn't control it. 

 

He didn't know it could happen like this, too, but there's the razor-sharp touch of his small fang at his fingertip. He quickly licks over the injured skin at Shiro's hip and hears him moan, loud and obscene, like the walls were three feet wide of solid concrete or they were absolutely alone on earth. Shiro's fingers pull harder at his hair, and he rubs the shaft of Shiro's dick a few times before he becomes impatient; just to tease him more, he bites the soft flesh of his hip again, right next to the V-shaped dip of it, and he feels his cock throb in his fist. Keith opens his mouth wide and licks along the underside of Shiro's cock, fully aware that Shiro is watching him, and also that he likes the sight of his small fangs more than he admits. He's touching Shiro's thigh, sinking his fingertips into hard muscle and holding his dick by the base to swirl his tongue around the head. He can't help but moan as he does it, licking the slit and teasing the rest of the shaft with the flat of his tongue. It's no secret, not to him and not to Shiro, that he loves the taste of him, the weight of him on his tongue. It makes him hungry and needy, he's hard in his pants already but all of his attention is focused on Shiro. On his grunts and his heavy breathing, and the way he pulls at Keith's hair, growing impatient. 

 

"Keith," Shiro moans, his voice rough but sweet like honey. "Keith..."

 

Keith wraps his lips around the head of his dick and takes him in his mouth, pumping at the base. Shiro's choked cry makes Keith's dick throb, and he moans around Shiro's cock, his tongue pressed against it. He takes as much of it in his mouth as he can and hums around it, his nails digging into the skin of Shiro's thighs. He pulls back and takes a deep breath, Shiro's thumb sliding across his lip to wipe off precum and saliva. Keith smirks. He slides his hands around Shiro's thighs and licks his lips, taking him back in his mouth and bobbing his head. The taste of him makes him moan, the sounds, the way Shiro lets go of his hair to try to hold himself steady against the wall makes him move faster. He hollows out his cheeks and slides up the length of Shiro's cock to lick around the head again, rubbing his tongue against it, all while Shiro gasps and helplessly rocks his hips. 

 

Keith brings his index finger to his mouth and licks it, coats it in saliva while he strokes Shiro's dick. Wrapping his arm around Shiro's thigh again, he starts to tease his hole as he deep-throats him; he can feel Shiro's legs shake and moans at the choked cry that comes out of his throat. Keith bobs his head, sliding Shiro's dick in and out of his mouth while he slowly makes his way inside Shiro with his single finger. A string of gasps fill the room, Shiro's hand brushing Keith's hair back and tugging helplessly at it, his palm pressed against the angle of his jaw and his thumb touching his bottom lip as he moves inside Keith's mouth. 

 

"So good," Shiro whispers incoherently, "that's so good, baby, fuck." 

 

It makes Keith moan around him again, louder, and he sucks his dick faster, pushing his finger further inside Shiro. He rubs circles with it, slow and steady and pushing deeper inside him, feeling Shiro spread his legs and fight the urge to rock his hips the way he wants to. Keith holds the base of Shiro's cock and pulls back. 

 

"Fuck my mouth," he says, his voice rough and raspy, and takes him in as far as he'll go again. 

 

Shiro whimpers. He grabs a fistful of Keith's hair and fucks into his mouth, picking up a rhythm after just a couple of thrusts; Keith sinks his finger deeper inside Shiro, moaning and rocking his own hips as Shiro does what he asked. It's delicious. He leaves his mouth hanging open, strokes Shiro's cock with his tongue whenever he can and sinks his fingernails into Shiro's thigh. He can hear Shiro repeat his name over and over like a prayer, growling and whining, and when Keith's finger is finally deep enough to hit the spot inside him, he can feel Shiro shudder. His movements stop, suddenly, and he seems confused: he doesn't know whether to fuck into Keith's mouth or push back against his finger, and all he can do is gasp. Keith takes it as his cue to pick up his pace again. He sucks at the head of his dick and teases the slit again, his finger moving inside Shiro, rubbing at the spot ceaselessly. 

 

A loud string of curses fills the room, and Shiro grabs at Keith's hair and at his neck with the prosthetic, the massive thumb of it pressed just slightly against Keith's Adam's apple. Keith bobs his head and presses down on Shiro's prostate, rubs it, strokes his tongue against Shiro's cock until he can hear him cry out. It's a half-moan, half-sob that feels like music to Keith's ears, and he pulls away from Shiro just in time. He comes on Keith's face, across his cheek and on the side of his neck, and he holds on tightly to a fistful of Keith's hair as Keith rubs his prostate still, making him spill every last drop onto his uniform. Shiro can't stop cursing, he can't stop whimpering, he can't stop gasping for air. Keith looks up at him, at his flushed face and his slight frown, his mouth open and his chest heaving, and he's so beautiful it almost takes Keith's breath away. 

 

Keith stands up and grabs Shiro's hips. Almost immediately, Shiro holds his face and kisses him, not giving a fuck about the cum smeared on his face or about tasting himself on Keith's mouth as he kisses him. It's rare to see Shiro at a loss for words like this, but here he is: he wipes his cum away from Keith's cheek and gives him a smile like he's embarrassed--Keith knows he probably is, but he can't form a single word. 

 

Keith only smiles. He kisses Shiro again and squeezes his ass, and chuckles when Shiro moves to kiss his neck a dozen times. 

 

"I missed you, too," Shiro says, at last, holding Keith close, with his arms wrapped around his waist. He gives Keith a playful smirk and gives his bottom lip a soft bite, and peeks down between them before looking into Keith's eyes again. "What if we do something about that?" he asks, and presses a thumb to one of Keith's fangs. "And some more with this?"

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! find me over twitter @gothshirogane!


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